Page 15 of Mustang Summer

He sipped his lemonade, his expression clearly unsure how to deal with her.“Why do you want the car?”

This question she was prepared for.The forums she’d studied bitched about Mr.Blackwood, but she thought it obvious the sale of the car was much like finding a new owner for a beloved dog one could no longer care for.It meant something and he wanted it to mean something to the new owner.“Fixing up cars is a passion I share with my dad.He’s always talked about this one.It’s his birth year.”Well, if you added three years.“My mom passed away last year and he’s just…kind of lost.”

To be honest, her dad had been lost for years, but her mother had kept him on the most legal path she could.

Mr.Blackwood reclined in his chair, spacing off into the distance.“I bought it as soon as it rolled off the line.My wife said it was the envy of the county, but I always thought it was my passenger who was.”

His faint smile tore at her heart.His love for his wife almost did her in, made her tell him to keep the car far away from her father.Otherwise, it’d be painted a different color and shipped off to the highest bidder.

The man was selling memories of his wife and she could appeal to those as sick as it made her.“I’m sure you were right.”

His gaze was faraway, nostalgic.“We were married sixty years.That car carried kids and grandbabies, but my wife passed and I’ve got to find a place for the Shelby before I go.”

Oh.God.She wanted to run back home, inform Bill it was no use, Mr.Blackwood didn’t think she was worthy.But she’d done the books.The business was close to financial ruin.The further under he got, the more he turned to the illegal chop shop business.She’d heard rumors, those involved could be nasty individuals.She couldn’t lose Bill, too.

“Come on.Let’s go have a look.”

She stuffed down her intention to decline and followed him to his garage.Inside was the faded Mustang that represented so many of this man’s happy memories.

Her phone vibrated and she took it out of her pocket for a quick peek.

Got it yet?

A groan rose.Dragging in a calming breath, she told herself that it was a pile of metal.Bill was a real living person and he was in financial trouble.And he was her only family left.Out of jail, that was.

Mr.Blackwood chattered on about the car and she’d insert questions, not about the beauty or the work it needed, but about details that would spur memories and stories.

She was emotionally ragged and nauseous by the time she left two hours later.Mr.Blackwood had said he’d think on it and call her if he wanted to sell.

Her phone rang again before she hit blacktop and she had a mini heart attack.She couldn’t face completing her mission yet.

“Yeah.”

“What took you so long?”Bill growled.

“He liked to talk about his car.”And she liked hearing the stories.The closest foray into masochism she’d ever do, but as much as they fueled her guilt, she loved hearing about Mr.Blackwood’s happy ever after.Her mother hadn’t gotten hers, and even if she’d survived her heart attack, Josie doubted her life would’ve been as satisfying as that of Mr.Blackwood’s late wife.Not the way Bill had treated her.

“Did you get it?”Bill asked.

“Not yet.He’s gotta think on it.”

“Why?It’s a fucking car.”

She mentally sighed.Ifshehad said “fucking,” he would’ve chided her about her language.“He’s attached to it, but I think he liked me.”

That pacified her father.“When you gonna be home?”

“Jesse’s court date is tomorrow at eleven.I don’t know how long it’ll last, but I got a room for tomorrow night just in case.”

“What the fuck, Josie.You don’t need to waste more money on his dumbass choices.”

What the fuck, Bill, you raised him, too.Jesse might not be Bill’s by blood, but Jesse and all of his impulsive, poor choices came straight from Bill.

“It’s Moore.A room hardly costs a thing.”And the kindly desk clerk called her honey like a stereotypical small-town grandma.

Bill sucked in a breath.Voices came over the phone.She recognized Gage’s, but not the other one.

“I got to go, Josie.You take care.Call me as soon as you hear from the old man.”

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